


The Terrible, Awful, No-Good, Very Bad Valentine’s Day

by LovelySpaceQueer



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad date, F/M, Fluff, Reader Insert, SherryBaby14 Valentine’s Cutthroat Challenge, Valentine’s Day, mention of vomit, poor steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelySpaceQueer/pseuds/LovelySpaceQueer
Summary: Valentine’s Day plans fall through, but not in the way you’d expect when dating an Avenger. Hilarity and fluff ensues.Written for SherryBaby14’s Valentine’s Day cutthroat challenge on Tumblr
Relationships: Captain America/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	The Terrible, Awful, No-Good, Very Bad Valentine’s Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was for SherryBaby14’s Valentine’s Cutthroat Challenge on Tumblr
> 
> Prompt: Reader and Steve go on a Valentine’s Day date
> 
> My sabotages were:   
> 1) Steve has to eat from a dog dish in the floor   
> 2) Cannot use the name “Steve”, “Stevie”, “Steven” etc. 
> 
> This is my first ever published fic. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated but don’t be mean, maybe, please.
> 
> Non beta-ed, all mistakes are my own. Let me know if there’s a typo or something.
> 
> Comments are life.

Y/N entered the restaurant looking an absolute disaster. Her once expertly styled (and quite expensive) Y/H/C hair hung limp and wet about her shoulders. Her makeup, which had taken almost two hours to apply, was streaked down her face, and the dress she had bought the only one of and at full price, because it happened to be in exactly her size, had lost its shape and was splashed with mud. Still, she brushed a lock of drenched hair out of her eyes and put on a smile and limped up to the hostess. The woman looked at her with clear judgement, if not complete disdain, but before she could say anything Y/N spoke up, ”Table for two for Rogers, please” 

The hostesses eyes widened and she pursued her lips, trying hard, it seemed, not to make any rude comments to whom she realized must be Captain America’s date. The lady grabbed a menu and a roll of silverware. “Right this way, ma’am.” She managed through a grimace. 

They arrived at a table in the very middle of the restaurant. It was an elegantly set round table for two with a giant bouquet of roses next to one of the place settings, a bottle of champagne already on ice, a plate of oysters on the table and Y/N’s date nowhere to be found. 

The waiter came out of nowhere to pull out her chair and take the soaked piece of fabric that had been her shawl. “I believe Mr. Rogers has gone to freshen up.” He answered her unspoken question in a thick British accent, ”he has taken the liberty, no pun intended, of ordering oysters for the table.” He grabbed the bottle of champagne. ”Here we have a bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal, if I may?” He motioned towards her glass. Y/N nodded and he poured her a glass. “When The Captain returns, I will be pleased to take your order.” 

Y/N smiled and thanked him. He gave a curt nod and disappeared.

After glancing at the menu, and with her date still unaccounted for, Y/N decided she would try to make herself just a little more presentable, as she could sense the stares of the other patrons and the waitstaff.

The restroom was single occupant, thankfully and she wiped off her makeup on surprisingly soft towels and tied her hair into her trademark messy bun. She had started to take a towel to her mud caked legs when she heard the unmistakable sound of retching from behind the wall. She exited and knocked on the door of the other single occupant restroom in the small hallway, answered only with more vomiting sounds. “Babe?” She tried. 

“Y/N?” She heard faintly before another round of liquid-to-porcelain noises.

“Sweetheart, please open the door, are you alright?” She asked. Y/N had never known her boyfriend to get a stomachache let alone actually vomit. After a few more minutes the door opened, and there stood Superhero: Captain America, Symbol of Freedom and Democracy, Original Avenger and Y/N’s boyfriend of two years; with teary, bloodshot eyes, puffy cheeks and lips, tie untied, shirt partially unbuttoned, and what was no doubt throw up in his beard. 

“I think I’m allergic to oysters.” He declared.

“What?” Y/N didn’t mean to laugh but he truly was a sight to behold. “What happened?”

“I was waiting for you, so I ordered some oysters and they were really good, I’ve never had them before. I only ate twelve!” 

Y/N couldn’t control her laughter at this point. “Twelve?! Omigosh! That’s so many!” Y/N took her man's arm in hers And apologized through a fit of giggles. “Let’s go home, Babe.” 

She started to walk out towards the door. 

“No we can’t! We have to stay!” Her sick boyfriend practically ran back to their table. “I got you flowers!” Y/N followed confused. She had never seen him act like this. 

“They’re gorgeous, love, really, but you’re sick.” She wrapped one hand around his waist. “We don’t need a silly commercial holiday to have a romantic date. We‘ll do this again next week, or next month.” The usually composed Captain gave a dejected sigh in her embrace. 

“Ok,” He conceded ”Let me settle the bill, and we can go. Just wait for me up front.”

Y/N walked towards the front, bouquet of roses in her arms, to wait for the forlorn looking hero. 

She sat on one of the benches with others waiting for a table. At least some other lucky couple would get a table in an impossibly crowded restaurant on Valentine’s Day. Y/N felt gross, anyway, water still dripped from her hair and dress and the mud that was finally drying on her legs was getting itchy. And there was water running  _ up  _ her arm? Y/N looked down to see two large spiders emerge from the bouquet she was holding. She promptly dropped it and brushed at her arm with only a small scream. The two large spiders were unmistakable as they scuttled across the white marbled floor. Y/N stomped her muddy heel down several times leaving a trail of caked mud leading to the two twitching bodies of the occupants of her flowers. The bouquet lay a few feet away. Just then her boyfriend returned. “Rogers! You gave me flowers with spiders in them!” His face fell upon seeing hers. Y/N’s only real fear was arachnids after being trapped in a pit of them for several minutes during a mission once. 

“Oh Shit!” Captain America cursed, “Y/N I am so sorry! I didn’t know!” he stepped forward to hug her which she blocked. 

”It’s ok.” She rubbed at her arms as if there might be more crawling in her. “Let’s just go!” She yanked her shawl from her boyfriend's arm and walked into the thunderstorm that was still raging. 

The door to the bathroom was open. Y/N had showered while her still apologetic boyfriend succumbed to another bout of heaving into the toilet. Now, he was showering as she dried off. “...So, I wake up alone in the subway car and realize I totally missed my stop and either I wait ten minutes for the next train or I just walk. So I’m walking down 5th, and you know all that construction happening? It’s a total mud pool! The storm is full force at this point, so I just hiked up my dress and walked through. Otherwise I would have been even later!” She tied her hair up and walked through the studio apartment into the living room. Y/N plopped down on the couch next to a sleeping golden retriever. 

“Not gonna lie, doll.” A clean,, shiny captain emerged from the bathroom in sweats and a T-shirt to match Y/N’s own lazy outfit. “It’s totally your fault you fell asleep on the train. I told you not to stay up so late bingeing Netflix.” He padded to the kitchen. 

“I know! But you got me hooked on these competition shows!” She rubbed her dog's head. “So what are we gonna do now?”

“Well, after throwing up for the first time in 75 years what felt like my last week's worth of meals, I’m hungry.” Her beau opened the fridge just as Y/N shot up from the couch. 

“Ooh.” She shut the door of the poorly stocked fridge for him. “I was kinda expecting the night to take us back to your place for, like, the weekend. So I haven’t gone grocery shopping.” 

She watched her boyfriend look around the kitchen. There was no fruit in the bowl. Two boxes of cereal on the counter. Nothing in the fridge and her sink was piled high with dirty dishes. “Sorry, babe! I ruined our romantic date night! This is probably the worst Valentine’s Day ever!”

“No, it’s ok. We’ll make it work” Ever the hero, Cap smiled at her, “Cereal it is!” 

He walked her over to the small coffee table and pulled down a pillow from the couch. He patted at it and Y/N sat down with a giggle. 

“My, what a gentleman.”

She watched as he draped a spare bed sheet over the table, lit a three-wick candle that smelled of “sea breeze” and placed it in the center of the table. He brought the small succulent from her nightstand as part of the centerpiece, too. 

Her line of sight was obscured, but she next heard her boyfriend rummaging around in the kitchen. He brought out two coffee mugs of cranberry juice and set them down. He returned to the kitchen and brought out a small plastic bucket her niece must have left here at some point, and one of her dogs old food bowls filled with cereal. He set the “bowls” down and placed a paper towel on her lap. When he had seated on the floor himself, her goofy boyfriend raised his coffee mug and toasted. “Every date with you is special, Y/N. And I hope we’ll get to have a million more just like this.” They clinked mugs and took a sip. 

“Just like this?” Y/N asked as she watched him scoop a spoonful of cereal from the dog bowl in front of him. 

He laughed. “Ok maybe not quite like this.”

Y/N looked down at her own little bucket of cereal and noticed something glinting in the milk. “Um, babe?...”, she asked trying to fish it out. She looked up to see her boyfriend on one knee in front of her. “I considered waiting until we could redo tonight’s date. There was gonna be champagne and violins and an opera singer. But I realized, this is perfect too, just because I’m with you, and you’re perfect and I love you. Would you do me the honor, Y/N, of becoming Mrs. Rogers?”

He pulled the ring off of her spoon and wiped it on a paper towel before fitting it onto Y/N’s ring finger. 

Once the shock had subsided she exclaimed,“Oh my god! Of course! Yes! I literally didn’t expect this at all!” Y/N giggled and launched herself into her  _ fiancé’s _ arms. She kissed him but broke the kiss rather quickly. “But can I be Mrs. America instead?” 

They both laughed as he pulled her up into a deep kiss. “I love you.” She whispered into his ear before returning to what was quickly becoming a heated make out session. 

He led her to the bedroom, cereal forgotten. 

“So,” he blushed “what exactly did you expect us to do at my place all weekend?” 

Y/N gave him a coy smile and pulled off her T-shirt. “Oh, I’ve got a few ideas Captain.” 

He started for her, then paused. Had she come on too strong? 

“Maybe the cereal and cranberry juice were a bad idea.” He managed to get out, before he raced to the bathroom and slammed the door. Y/N promptly heard more puking sounds and sighed. She plopped onto the bed and laughed realizing they would have many more years ahead of them to make up for one bad day. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Babe!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
